


284 - Cafe Romance

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 15:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15197750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: An original fic about: cafés, regular customers, and peeing puppy dogs.





	284 - Cafe Romance

The sound of the coffee machine provided the white noise soundtrack to your working life. The hiss of it, heating and foaming the milk, used to give you headaches. It was too loud and the coffee grounds smelt too strong. But, the more time you spent in the little café on the corner, the more the sounds and smells grew to comfort you. The atmosphere didn’t just work its magic on you. More orders were placed by regulars than strangers. And the regulars, well, you loved them. 

“Aw, love. You’re just the sweetest girl in the world!” he said, grinning ear to ear and pulling the plate closer to himself. “What if I wanted something different this time though? Saw the special on the board outside. Sounds real fuckin'… fancy,”

“You don’t seem like the bone marrow for breakfast type,” you replied, willing to guess that a guy that ate the same dish - traditional English breakfast - at least twice a week wasn’t about to try some hipster thing with gross foamy meat stuff in it.

Laughing, he shrugged. “Yeah, nah. But, thanks, love. Didn’t even have to come up and order or anythin’,”

“What’s the point? You’re kinda predictable,” you replied, pretending that it wasn’t entirely you that knew the guy and his order. The other girls at the café laughed at how quickly you’d blush in response to him coming in. Unbeknownst to you, it was your pretty blushing and soft kindness that made him come back the second time, and the third, and the fourth, and so on.

“When are you gonna ask him out then?” Amelia asked when you returned to kitchen, picking up a plate of smashed avo and another of banana pancakes.

“It’s not like that. He’s just a regular. You know how Russ is about keeping the regulars happy.”

Amelia snorted. Loudly. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you fuckin’ say, Y/N.”

Hating the cliché of ‘coffee shop girl gets crush on messy haired cute regular customer,’ you’d never just admit to the crush. Yet, you liked that Amelia and the others could see it. Maybe it meant that he could too, and maybe that would give him the confidence to ask you out. Because that seemed like a monumental task that you did not have the guts for.

…

English breakfast plate and a pot of black tea for one. If he was really hungry, or hungover, he’d get an extra hash brown. Sometimes he’d order a takeaway coffee when he had a big day ahead of him. It started with you reading the order to him when he appeared at the register. “Know it by heart, huh?” he said, impressed. Next time around, you were clearing plates and just pushed him in the direction of a table, rather than let him walk to the counter. He said you were the sweetest girl in the world. And so it became routine. He’d appear, dressed in black and freckled by the sun, and take a seat. You’d bring him his breakfast. He’d leave cash under the bill and make sure the table was clean before he left.

There was one Sunday morning he came in early; he was the first customer of the day and you were maybe still a little drunk from the night before. Whatever it was that disrupted the flow, you felt a little brave. Your hands sweated as you wrote your number down on the napkin. Placed ink down on the table, you watched him use the napkin to wipe the table clean and screw it into a ball. He never even saw the digits. Thankful that nobody had seen you try and fail, you resolved to never try again.

A couple of weeks after the napkin incident, the daydreaming and relationship scheming started again when he brought his dog in to meet you and everybody else. While it was clear he was your customer, your regular, your something, he was still a beautiful human that loved everyone who worked at the café. When the fluffy little brown ball of joy barked once through the window and her paw was held up in a wave, all the girls went outside, even the two who were meant to be flipping eggs.

“Ladies! This is Little Mary,” he introduced, obviously very proud of doggo. He handed her to you to nurse. “Mare, this is… everyone- I don’t know your names!” The shock in his voice was painfully cute. “That’s so fuckin’ rude of me. This whole time ya’ve been makin’ my breakfast and I haven’t even say a proper 'ello!”

“Don’t worry. We’ve got a bunch of nicknames for you,” Amelia said, a sly smile creeping onto her face as she tried to pretend she wasn’t dying of cuteness overload. She had a bad girl image to maintain and puppies were certainly not a part of that.

“What?!” he said, voice high. “What do ya call me?”

“Ask Y/N,” she replied, nodding her head over to you.

“Y/N,” Van repeated. “I can’t believe I’ve never asked your name.” He looked genuinely mystified; it made you laugh a little. Mary responded to the sound, wriggling in your arms and reaching up to lick your face.

“I never asked for yours. We’re even,”

“Even, yeah. Guess so… So, ah… yeah, I’m Van. It’s nice to meet you proper,” he said.

“I’m Amelia,” Amelia loudly declared, grinning like an absolute fuck before proceeding to introduce the other girls. Incorrectly, you assumed he’d never be able to recall all six names in future. He was special though.

After that day, your crush levelled the fuck up. You really, really liked him. It was beginning to get harder to ignore the question of why, if he liked you back, had he not made a move.

…

Three or four visits after Mary, Van stopped coming in. There had been no warning nor goodbye. Just three weeks of absence. You did your best to distract yourself by inventing new flavours of cupcakes and perfecting the typography on the blackboard signs, but the mystery of where he’d gone to burned in your heart.

“I don’t think he’s dead,” Amelia said, coming into the kitchen to pick up the slices of cake you’d been cutting. Heating the knife between each cut was key to making the slices look perfect.

“What?”

“Van. I don’t think he’s dead.”

It was the first time anyone had acknowledged his leave. Well, to you, that is. Looking over at Amelia, you were a little bit taken aback. “Okay… I don’t think he’s dead either… People get sick of going to the same place all the time. That’s normal,”

“Y/N. Seriously. He didn’t just get sick of here. Even if he did, he’d still come for you,”

“Mmm… evidently not,”

“Whatever. I’m just saying. I’ve been checking the obituaries. He’d not dead,” she said in a matter of fact way.

“What?! God, you’re real fuckin’ weird sometimes,”

“Just lookin’ out for ya.”

Two days after that, Amelia was proved half right. Half wrong. Van walked back through the doors of the café on a Wednesday morning. His hair was a little shorter, but not by much. He was in the same clothes he always wore. The only real point of difference was that he wasn’t alone. He held open the door for a girl, who laughed as she walked in and took a seat opposite Van.

He didn’t say anything to you, or the other girls, until he came to the counter to order. You were at the coffee machine, so was saved the cruelty of taking the order of his date.

“Where ya been?” Netta asked.

“I travel for work. Back now. How’s it been here? Any news?” he asked happily, partly directing the questions at you. “Y/N, how you been, love?”

“Same as always,” you said, feigning polite best you could.

Netta saved the moment, giving Van a little mindless update about the girls. Then, she asked if he wanted to order.

“Fuck, yeah. Sorry. Wastin’ your time. Could we get one of them smoothie bowls, please, love? And I’ll have the banana pancakes,” he said, reading off the menu like he had never been in the café before.

“You’re not having the usual?!” Netta squawked.

Van chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, been talked into something new,” he answered, motioning his head back to the girl waiting at the table.

When the meals were ready, you were asked if you wanted to take them to him. You mumbled something about going on break, then disappeared through the back kitchen door. Staying gone long enough that you’d be sure Van would have finished and left by the time you got back, you were prepared to be in trouble for taking more than your fair thirty minutes.

That didn’t happen. For the rest of the day, the girls all tiptoed around you. Then, as you walked out the door at the end of your shift, Amelia called, “Y/N! I… I’m sorry, yeah?”

…

Within a week, Van was back. The rain outside was keeping most people at home, but he arrived, stomping his boots on the welcome mat and grinning up at everyone behind the counter. You watched from the kitchen’s serving window.

“Van, mate. The usual or will you be trying something new today?” Amelia teased, as he crossed the café and took a seat next to the window.

“Usual, please, love,” he answered across the small space. With only two other tables in use, nobody minded the worker-customer chit chat. “Y/N here?”

“Maybe. She might be on break though. Why?” Amelia answered. You knew she knew exactly where you were.

“Just wondering… She okay?”

“What makes you think she ain’t?”

“Nothing… I just… She seemed a bit off the other day,” Van said.

Amelia looked over her shoulder at you, hidden behind the wall, out of sight of customers. The expression on her face was new. At first, you couldn’t read it. Then, suddenly, you knew what she was going to do. Shaking your head frantically, you mouthed 'no’ over and over, helpless as you watched her go and sit at Van’s table.

You got on your hands and knees and crawled out to the counter, sitting behind it so you could maybe catch some of the conversation. Lilly went out to deliver drinks to the other tables. When she returned, you pulled her down. Like Amelia and Netta and all the other girls, she knew about the 'you and Van’ thing.

“What is she saying to him?” you whispered harshly.

Lilly covered her mouth with her hands to suppress a laugh. “What are you doing? Are you hiding? Want me to write a note to give to him?”

“Shut up. Did you hear what they were saying?”

Lilly rolled her eyes and moved to stand and go back to work. “She’s asking him about the girl he brought here.” And she was gone.

Crawling back into the kitchen, you swapped jobs with Netta and sent her to the coffee machine while you cooked. Van left without speaking to you, but he felt sure you were there and not on break. You were the only one that put a little paprika in the scrambled eggs.

You wanted to ignore Amelia, but she had information that you desperately wanted. Maybe even needed. When she appeared at the kitchen window, leaning through and smiling like the Cheshire cat, you just sighed.

“Do you want to know?” she asked cryptically.

“I don’t know, Amelia. Do I want to know?”

“She’s his cousin. Hairdresser. Down this way for a couple of days, so he caught her for brekkie and a trim,” Amelia told you. Relief washed over you with such intensity that you felt embarrassed.

“What did you tell him?”

“About you? Nothing. I’m not gonna snitch about your little crush, Y/N. Do think you should maybe say something,” she said, adding more relief.

“No. If he can just go away for a month and not say anything, and bring a girl and not be all like 'disclaimer, this isn’t my girlfriend,’ then I don’t think he likes me,” you snapped, turning away and looking for a new job to do. That tea-towel sure could use with another folding.

Amelia left you alone to absorb the relief and feel the self-pity.

You knew you needed to sort yourself out. Hiding every time Van came in was not a valid form of dealing with the situation. It was also very likely to lead to unemployment. Maybe that was it; maybe you needed a new job. Did that just count as hiding too though? Would Van follow you to a new café?

…

He was leaning against the door of the café smoking a cigarette. The city was awake, but only just. You’d watched the sunrise pinks melt into the sky blue on the bus trip over. He must have got up early to beat you there. When he saw you turn the corner, he walked over to the street light, put the smoke out, then flicked the butt into the bin. How did he know you were on pre-open? The café didn’t serve for another thirty minutes.

“Hi…” you said slowly.

“That sounded like a question,” Van replied.

“Well… yeah… What are you doing here?”

“No, what are you doing here!” Amelia’s voice yelled from behind. You screamed, jumped, and spun around - almost colliding with Van in the process. Amelia just laughed as she fished her keys from her jacket pocket and unlocked the café doors.

“What… are you doing here?” you repeated, redirected though.

“I’m covering your shift.” Following her into the café, you looked over at Van, who was following you with a knowing smile on his face. “And I’ve got a bag of your clothes that you’ve left at mine over the past three thousand years,” she added, chucking a plastic bag at you. It was tied by the handles. “That part was my idea. Didn’t think you’d wanna go on a little adventure date dressed in your work shirt,”

“Date?”

“That would be, ah, my idea, love,” Van said quietly. Then it all kind of melted away. Amelia and the café. The confusion and the cold. “I’m real bad at this… all this datin’ and boyfriend stuff, you know what I mean? Not 'cause I’m a bad boyfriend or anything, 'cause I’m not like that, it’s just that… I’m not around all the time 'cause of my band… and I’ve kinda had me heart broken before because of that, so I just… I don’t know… don’t bother… but…” Van stopped rambling then. He breathed out, shoved his hands in his pockets, and grinned. “Do you wanna maybe hang out with me today? If you’ve not got work or anything?” he asked, smirking.

“She doesn’t!” from the kitchen.

…

“Oh my God,” you whispered to yourself when you saw the A-frame sign on the pavement. “Is that…?”

“Ah-huh. Figured I don’t know much about you. But you loved Little Mary,” Van explained.

The animal shelter was only a short walk from the café. Van filled most of the time talking. It was clear that it was partly driven by nervousness. But, he was telling you about his life, things that he’d not shared when he was just a regular. It was like he was giving you his resume, giving you all the information you needed to make an informed decision about whether he was worth dating.

The staff at the shelter welcomed you in before they officially opened. Van knew one of them - a girl with bright red hair and perfectly drawn on freckles. She ushered you into the puppy room and left you alone with only a warning, “Good luck.”

You followed Van over the little fence presumably used to keep the animals from running straight into the front reception room. “So… where are… the-” No need. A door opened and a flood of puppies came running in, fresh from their morning walk outside. You screamed in happiness, dropped to your knees and just let it happened. Van watched for a minute, saying hello to the guy attempting to round up the doggos and asking him questions about them.

“You guys gonna be alright if I leave you alone with them?” the guy asked.

“Definitely! I love them!” you said as you tried to hug more than ten puppies at once.

“Yeah, I was talking to the dogs, but good to know…” he laughed, leaving the room through the outside door.

Van sat down next to you, crossed his legs and let the puppy pile commence.

“I think… this might be heaven…” you said between puppy kisses. “Oh my God, Van, don’t let them lick your mouth,”

“I’ll wash it after!” he cried, shrugging and completely disregarding your suggestion. It made you like him more.

Sitting on the floor for over half an hour, you would have stayed longer if the inevitable wasn’t so inevitable. It was a tiny, funny looking dog. Neither you, nor Van could guess what breed it was. Van loved it and kept it close the whole time you were there. That was probably a mistake. The small, shaky thing peed on him, darkening his black jeans.

“I was scared this would happen,” he said deadpan. “Try to do somethin’ cute. Woo a girl with puppies. Get pissed on.” When you just laughed, he looked over at you. “Oi! This ain’t funny! This is gonna cut the date short, ya know!”

The thought of that legitimately upset you. “You live close, yeah? 'Cause you’re at the café early a lot, so you gotta live close.”

Van smirked, knowing where you were going. “I do. Just 'round the corner and down a few blocks,”

“So, we can just swing by and you can change. And maybe shower,” you suggested.

“Tryna’ get an invite back to mine already! I see what you’re playing at, love.”

As you kissed the last puppy on his little snout, you stood up and shook your head at Van. He chuckled to himself then followed you over the fence and out of the room. The girl with the red hair laughed at Van. “That’s a lot of puppy pee,” she remarked.

“Yeah, thanks for that, Cass. Didn’t figure it out till you said something,”

“Aw, Vangie. Don’t get snappy at me 'cause you got peed on, on your date,” she replied, looking at you for confirmation that she was funny. You grinned back at her.

“Right, we’ll be off then. Thanks for lettin’ us in. I’ll tell John you said hi,”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” she growled out as you followed Van out the front door.

“Bye!” he yelled. You waved goodbye to her, offering a sympathetic smile to counteract Van’s sass.

…

When Van had told you he was in a band that was good enough to tour overseas, you’d kinda expected him to take you back to a fancy new apartment. But, his place was a funny little cottage tucked between buildings down a side street in the city. It suited him and seemed representative somehow. As he unlocked the front door and let you in, his walking reached its peak level of looking uncomfortable. Van noticed you noticing.

“I can smell it,” he said, sounding pretty sooky. Justified though.

“Honestly, I can’t. I can just smell… like, regular dog… on my hands,” you said, smelling them and frowning.

“Well, bathrooms through there. You go wash your hands and whatever, I’ll put the kettle on and let Mary in. You can say hi to her while I shower and change real quick. That alright?”

“Yeah. Sounds like a plan,” you replied with a happy shrug.

When you were settled on the couch with a mug of milky tea and Mary in your lap, Van left you to shower. You watched him walk around looking for the jeans he wanted to change into. He went across the hall and back millions of time. Finally, he entered the bathroom and stayed there for ten minutes. So absorbed in talking to Mary, you were startled by the bathroom door opening, and looked over.

The white towel wrapped around his waist had already come loose, and Van stopped in the doorway to hitch it up and pull it tighter. That’s when you should have looked away, before he noticed you looking at him. But you were looking. Van wasn’t anything like you’d imagined. Although charming, he’d always had an awkwardness to him that made you think he’d be a funny, skinny, pale thing. Lanky and bony. There was nothing wrong with that, but… that wasn’t what he was.

His arms were thick, which meant his thighs probably were too. Instead of emo kid ribs sticking out, he had softness and a little belly that you were already blowing raspberries on in your mind. Over his sternum was a patch of light brown hair. He probably had Irish blood, you thought. There was a ginger tinge to the hair and his freckles were a bit of a giveaway. They covered his shoulders too, like a galaxy that first bloomed from the apples of his cheeks.

Van grinned at you and it took you two seconds to smile and look away and pretend that didn’t just happen. When he went into his bedroom, you hoped he’d come out and be graceful, let that moment slide. Not a chance. He walked out in clean jeans and no shirt. He crashed down next to you and he put his feet up on the coffee table, reaching one arm behind you to rest on the couch. The look on his face was all smug bravado.

“So, was gonna take you out to lunch. But, now we’re here, am thinkin’ since you’re always cookin’ for you, might be nice for me to return the favour?” He was speaking carefully, choosing his words. “Receive. Give. You know,”

“Reciprocity,” you said. The word came out more breathless than you wanted it to be. 

Van grinned. “Exactly, babe. We’re on the same wavelength or somethin’,” he said.

You watched him stand and move over to the kitchen. The cottage was small, and the living space was overlooked by the kitchenette. Van moved about, not asking you what you wanted to eat but simply beginning the cooking process without your input. You could see it then, how different Van was in his own space versus the world. It made you want to see him on stage performing with his band. And what he’d be like around his mates, and then his parents. You wanted to see all the different types of Van.

It was still bugging you though. There was that question in the back of your mind of why it had taken so long to get to that point.

“Can I ask you something?” you said, kicking your shoes off and pulling your legs up onto the couch and under you. Van nodded as he put a piece of cheese in his mouth. “If you… Why… How long were you planning this?” He looked up at you, confused at all your stopping and starting. “The date. Me. Whatever,” you clarified.

“Honestly? First day you served me my brekkie,” he said with a small smile and a casual shrug. How was it so easy for him to say that?

“Then why-”

"Like I said before, I just… the band gets in the way. I’m always touring. I’ve had a couple girls that I really liked, but the distance thing always made it hard. Guess I just didn’t want to… start that again. 'Sides, not just me there. Why didn’t you say nothing?” he asked, pointing a butter knife at you.

You laughed and looked away, blushing a little. “Valid question. I don’t know why. Too shy,”

“Here I was just thinkin’ you were being nice, looking for extra tips. Never would’ve guessed you’d like a muppet like me,” Van replied.

“If you did know, maybe you wouldn’t have brought a girl in with you, huh?” you teased.

“You know she’s my cousin, right?”

“I do now,”

“I only took 'er in there 'cause I wanted to see if she liked you. She’s always been a real good judge of character,” Van explained. “But you went M.I.A. so….”

“Because-”

“You like me. I know,” he said, smiling. “Know how I know?”

You snorted and motioned towards the room. “Because I’m in your house?”

“Besides that. Should’ve figured it out sooner. You always stamp my loyalty card with extra stamps and put extra bacon on my meal when you cook it.”

He brought over two plates and put them on the coffee table. Cheese toasties. Although you didn’t know him well, you felt that cheese toasties were very him. Picking up your plate, you put it in your lap and ripped at the food, giving Mary a little bit. Van smiled and watched his dog take her piece of toasty and settle under the coffee table with it. He looked back at you.

“I like you, Y/N.”


End file.
